Shine On: Harvest Moon Songs
ISSUE #316
Last night was a most special night—the harvest moon. The first full moon in autumn has long given ancient protection to farmers and workers. She’s given us light so we could reap our crop in darkness, allowing us to race against days growing shorter, against a future growing ever colder.
There her gentle face presided, over all-night binge-fests before the advent of electric light. All those years—that’s a hard schedule for us to shake, genetically. I’m sure you’ve noticed the Earwyrms timestamps as of late.
Thus the harvest moon is very important to me. She is a dreamer’s guardian, a patron saint of workers, protector of those who actually do and drive the world—not suckers, but strongmen. People of pride, even as they are typically mocked. The harvest moon was there for us long ago and will remain long after the machines are dead.
She reminds us that it’s our toil that feeds all these abuses of power. What is given can always be taken away. The mother, she whispers, “You are their power cells; and it’s you who could starve the rich, if only you would try.”
Of all the seasons, fall descends—a cliché so apt as to buck the label. Summer’s elation settles and forms a gelatin of peace. The brain works better in these prime and perfect temperatures. Give your ears a bath with these songs of soothing shadow.
I’m taking a break this week to watch the leaves change. Fall hit us all at once here in the South, and I think we should all go out and take a drive to the highest peak we can find. Gaze out at nature’s colorful rhythm.
These summer songs are for the eager sun and the relief of the hazy moon. In the heat, our sweat casts pheromonal spells — even the tiger is susceptible to pathogens of desire.
Try sustaining equilibrium and you'll find that it's impossible. Will we ever reach a self that takes only what we can give? Ever give enough to match what we extract? It's a wicked concept forged in the fires of ideals, like justice or closure or the perfect way to load a dishwasher.
I need a break between the decade list and the year-end list, so here's a utilitarian playlist for the holidays. Put it on to run interference for those pesky memories of defunct relationships that always ring your mental doorbell in the middle of the holiday party and ruin the eggnog.
I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling a little heat-madness from this summer sun. Like if I slip I might float away, you know the feeling? If not, these songs will explain.
It's the longest day of the year, and I'm breaking my one rule—this playlist will be long to match. These songs are the playlist breakers, the ones you can never include because they're too damn tangential. But now they’re all in one place at long last. Nothing under seven minutes.
Today I'm here with another Earwyrms Essential, and this time it's the Snow Playlist, the one you put on if you're ever stuck having to walk home in a flurry.
I now have an audience for whom I can lay down the final ranking of the Best Christmas Songs, so we can settle the debate that's been keeping us up at night for years, and we can finally stop sacrificing our children at the altar of the War on Christmas.
It's finally here: the smell of fallen leaves; stepping over pumpkins; browns and reds and golds; driving around pumpkins; hay-rack rides; pumpkins in the bathroom; sweaters and jeans; swim through pumpkins to unlock your door. Fall shit.
Frequent readers will know that Western Africa is one of my favorite parts of the world, so my expectations were already high when I secured a lift to Bamako.
Last night was a most special night—the harvest moon. The first full moon in autumn has long given ancient protection to farmers and workers. She’s given us light so we could reap our crop in darkness, allowing us to race against days growing shorter, against a future growing ever colder.